


What Have I Done?

by Sunflower_milkshakes



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: I don’t know guys, Like, M/M, and I have No Clue, i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunflower_milkshakes/pseuds/Sunflower_milkshakes
Summary: Race really really really really likes Spot you guys





	What Have I Done?

“Medda… Meeddaaaa…. Meeeeeeedddddaaaaaaa,” Race tipped his head back as he called for Mrs. Medda, who was upstairs. 

“Good lord child what do you want?” she rolled her eyes and lightly flicked Race’s forehead. 

“I’m goin to Spot’s house after school today,” Race shrugged, going back to his Caprisun. The house erupted into a combination of groans and ‘YEAH GET IT RACER’. Race sighed. 

“Estimated time of return?” Medda sighed, quieting down the rest of the boys. 

“Nine ish,” he truly didn’t know. 

“Just stay the night, I’m not coming to pick you up and I doubt his mom would take you home,” Medda was gonna be late for work if she didn’t leave. “Reason for visit?”

Race sighed, annoyed, “satanic rituals, sex, and gambling.” 

“Have fun, kiddo,” Medda walked out the door. 

“THANKS MEDDA!!” Race called after her, grabbing his backpack and rushing out the door. Jack, Mush, Smalls and Race always walked to school. Usually it was filled with conversations of whatever had just happened in a latest episode. However, today Smalls and Mush seemed fascinated with Race’s love life. 

“So…” Smalls locked the door to the house, looking over and up to stare at Race. “You and Spot huh?” 

“Yeah we hang out a lot but going over to his house only happens occasionally, he likes coming to ours bet-“ Race was cut off my Jack repressing a giggle. 

“Racer she means you n’ Spot,” Jack took the juice box from Race’s hand and started drinking from it as Race slapped at him and got another from his bag, “as in… a couple, Racetrack.”

Race choked on his drink, cheeks turning a bright shade of pink, “we are not a-“ 

“Anthony Racetrack Higgins, you can deny it all you want but we all know you are head over heels for Shaun Conlon,” Mush poked his arm, teasing the taller boy. Race was this close, This Close to snapping at them but.. he knew they were right. Race had a crush on Spot Conlon. And he was terrified of it. 

They’d been friends since Spot started coming to school in Manhattan when he was adopted. Yeah at first Spot was a dick. And yeah he still is a dick. But there’s more to him than that. 

Anger issues, trust issues, and Spot confided in Race about his depression and his father. But Race and Medda taught Spot things to help with his anger. Slowly, Spot is beginning to trust again. And he’s happier now than he ever was before; that’s clear by the smile on his face, the light in his eyes, hell even in the way he speaks and walks. 

He was kind, sweet, soft and caring under that tough facade of his. Spot wasn’t just a ball of anger, but he’s no ray of pure sunshine and joy either. But Race wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s what makes Spot, well… Spot, It’s who he is. 

Not to mention he was quite attractive. Those eyes that shined in the light and lit up when he got excited. Those eyes could hold a million emotions and tell a story in one look. His smile was like the first glimpse of sunshine after a week of thunderstorms. Small gap between his front teeth made a very faint lisp if you care enough to listen. If he lets you get close enough- if he trusts you to get close enough- you can see small freckles dusting his nose. 

Pain shot through Race’s nose and forehead. He winced and stumbled back. 

“Hey now, chipmunk, watch where you’re goin,” someone laughed, grabbing Race’s arm to stabilize him. Race rolled his eyes and smiled at the nickname, looking up to see none other than the Brooklyn boy himself. Chipmunk was a name Spot had given him after he watched the blonde fill his mouth with ramen one night while watching the BBC Sherlock. 

“What up, bambi, fancy meeting you here,” Race grinned, fixing himself up a little before grabbing Spot’s hand. It wasn’t a romantic thing they always did that. However, judging by the look Jack was giving him, others thought of it as romantic. Friends can hold hands dickwad. 

“Hey Spot can I um…” Smalls paused before lifting her head up and rolling her shoulders back, “I need to talk to you, can we head somewhere with…. less of my brothers?” 

“Sure, kiddo, what’s up?” Spot put his hands in his pockets and followed after Smalls. Race knew what was coming next. 

“Three,” Race whispered to himself, bracing himself for what was about to happen, “two….. one-“ Mush grabbed Race’s arm, dragging him over to the fence of the school. “Bingo.”

“Race I’m telling you,” Jack stood tall, but Race still had an inch on him, “you like him, he likes you.”

“Uh yeah I sure hope he does,” smiling, Race mimicked the voice of the road work ahead vine. “Jacky we’ve been friends since freshman year of course he likes me.”

“You are the smartest dumbass I know,” sighing, Jack shook his head, “I don’t understand how you have an A in trigonometry but you can’t understand this.”

“Race listen,” Mush grabbed Race’s arm, his eyes softening and a small smile on his lips, “he likes you. Like more than a friend.”

“Best friends.”

“That- no. Race as in he wants to do romantic things with you,” Mush looked off in the distance for a second, “okay and maybe smash but-“ 

“I’ll kill him.”

“Jack shut up,” Mush rolled his eyes. “It won’t unbang your brother, just make him sad. How do you think Sarah feels about Davey, hm? That’s her twin brother.”

“We do no-“

“Yes you do, Jack, my rooms next to yours,” Race glared at him. He had to sneak out of the house multiple times just to stop from hearing them. “Don’t give me false hope, Mushy. Besides you have no evidence.”

“He doesn’t give nicknames to anyone and he sure as hell doesn’t help anyone up like he does you,” Jack protested, leaving against the fence. “He stayed with you at the hospital more times than I can count when you were sick, when you still lived with your dad he was there, and every time you’re hurt he goes out of his way to make sure you specifically are okay.” 

“Yeah he’s a good person he’d do the same for..” Race stopped himself. 

“Let’s test this then,” Jack then changes the conversation when he noticed Smalls and Spot we’re heading back this way. 

The conversation changed five million times before they decided to head in. Race watched this all unfold. Jack stuck his foot in front of Mush’s, tripping him. Mush fell, almost kissing the concrete when he hit the ground. 

Spot glanced over, “Mush you good? Hey Blink!!!”

“Yeah?” Blink called. He wasn’t far away, just a few feet off under a shade tree. 

“Jack tripped your boyfriend!” Spot wasn’t a snitch.. unless it came to Jack. He’d always snitch on Jack. Blink stared at Jack. He wouldn’t get him back now. Oh no, that’s not what Blink did. He’d do the same to Jack, just at a very, very inconvenient time. Blink waited, but went to see if his boyfriend was okay. 

Race was… shocked, to say the least. He thought about it all day. Did Spot like him? Did Race have a chance? Should he tell Spot? No, absolutely not. That would be the last thing he did. Race was smart, he wouldn’t tell Spot about the feelings he’s had for so, so long. The feelings that kept him up at night, staring at the feeling; sitting on the floor of the shower letting the now cold water hit his back; the feelings that distracted him from the world around him; the very same feelings that caused daydream after daydream. 

This… changed everything. Well, not really. It changed the fact that this was real. Race’s feelings were very, very real and if he wasn’t careful Spot would find out. If that happened… Race was sure their friendship would end. 

Math class. The one class Race hated most. It’s not that the math was hard it’s just that the teacher rambled on and on about nothing no one was learning. And to top that off, he had the Delancy brothers in class with him, constantly shredding his homework and poking and prodding him with things. Luckily Morris wasn’t here today. Which means Oscar wouldn’t fuck with him that badly. 

Sighing, Race pulled out his phone and pulled up the group chat. 

Sonic: anyone else bored out of their minds or is it just me?

Howdy: Race aren’t you in math? Pay attention 

Sonic: I can’t when I have Oscar Delancey shoving things down my shirt 

Bird boy: Anthony Racetrack Higgins we taught you better than this, stick up for yourself 

Sonic: I ain’t riskin gettin beat up finchy you can do that

They made a group chat right before school started, so they could all keep in touch. Even Spot and Tex was in it. They made another one with Miss Medda so she could tell everyone what was going on. Yeah she was only the mother to Race, Jack, Mush, and Smalls; but that didn’t stop her from acting as the mother to others. 

Spotty: Race pay attention 

Sonic: Spot we just went over this

Sonic: besides it’s not like I’m failing the class

Spotty: Race

Sonic: ???

Spotty: shut up

Sonic: >:p

Smiling, Race opened up a game, ignoring the now growing argument in the group chat. Something about god knows what. Then, Race got a message saying he’s been kicked from the group chat. He pulled up Jacks contact. 

Race: what gives 

Jacky: we’re takin bout you now hush

Race frowned. Usually if they were talking about him they’d leave him in there and roast him. This was different. And… it kinda hurt. He’d find out soon enough. It’s not like everyone can keep their mouths shut. 

By the time school was out, Race had thought of all the possible things they kicked him out for. Didn’t matter, he was goin to Spot’s. That was more important. The short boy met him outside the school, hair messed up and jacket hood over his head. Race smiled, the cool autumn air nipping at his skin. 

As they walked, they discussed their plans for the evening. 

“No… Race no that’s not-“

“Spot, soy milk is just like… milk… but introducing itself… in Spanish,” Race furrowed his brows, making odd hand gestures as he tried to explain this to Spot. 

“No, Race,” Spot laughed, turning to walk backwards. 

“Okay well why not?” Race folded his arms across his chest, huffing and walking a bit closer to Spot. 

“Because,” the boy took a pause, turned around, and walked ahead of Race, “I said so.” That phrase. That simple little phrase drove Race crazy. He didn’t know why and it wasn’t necessarily bad. Race just hated it. So, using all of his common sense, he ran after Spot. The whole way to his house. 

Race flopped down on Spot’s bed. 

“Race can you- I wanna lay down too it’s a long walk,” Spot tried to pick him up to move him, but Race was not having it. He kicked and wiggled and let out loud ‘no’ in the process. Spot gave up, falling on top of him. After a two hour nap, Tex called them to the living room to order dinner. The three of them together used one singular brain cell to order, bouncing the deteriorating cell as if it was a tennis match. 

Finally, finally they decided, ordered, and all settled down to watch Supernatural. 

“They should hunt bigfoot,” Race commented, Tex paying for their food and taking hers to her room. 

“They won’t,” Spot grabbed his food, shoveling it into his mouth, “know why?”

“Why?”

“Because Bigfoot doesn’t exist,” smiling, Spot ignored the glare Race sent his way. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Race whispered. He was sure, one hundred percent positive that it was only loud enough for him to hear, not Spot. 

“I love you too, Racer,” Spot whispered back. This wasn’t their usual joking around or friendly little I love you’s. No. No no. This… it felt different. It’s felt this way before. This didn’t feel friendly. It held a different weight. Warm and inviting, yet it scared Race to know how Spot meant it. Was it just Race? It had to be, Spot couldn’t like him. 

Panicking, Race blurt out whatever was on his mind, “thank you.” Spot snorted, having to put down his drink so he didn’t choke on it. It was ignored for a little bit and they continued to watch the show. Race had one thing on his mind. It was just getting louder and louder and louder. So… this dumbass went and did it. 

Race grabbed Spot’s face kissed him. He was kissing Spot Conlon. He kissed his best friend for god knows how long. And before he knew it Race let go and bolted to the front door, slamming it behind him. 

“What just..”

“Your best friend kissed you, ran, and if you don’t go after him you might lose him forever,” Tex piped up from the kitchen, sipping a can of Pepsi. 

Race ran. To where, you might ask? The only place he knew how to get to from Spot’s, which was Elmer’s house. 

“Race? It’s almost midnight, what are you-“ he stopped himself, looming Race up and down. The taller boy’s hair was a mess, chest moving with his rapid breathing, shaky hands, and tears brimming his eyes. “Just.. don’t let my siblings hear you on the way up. Come on, you can stay here for the night.”

All their friends knew that if one came to another’s door looking like something was wrong, let them stay. There’s too many of them with abusive parents to tell them to go home. Race was.. he was one that came at least twice a week. Sometimes with Albert, but most times without him. He didn’t have to worry about his dad anymore, but he did open his door (window, really) for the others if needed. 

Once they got up to Elmer’s room, Elmer put a hand on Race’s shoulder, “Race, what’s-“

“I’m sorry Elm I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced it’s so late I’m so sorry,” tears streaked his cheeks, turning to Elmer with this look in his eyes. Fear, regret, anger, sorrow. 

“Hey now, Racer,” Elmer grabber Race’s hand and rubbed a small pattern on the back of his hand, an old trick he learned from Albert to help with anxiety. “You know my door is always, always open. No matter what time of day, no matter what happened, I’m always here. And if I’m not, you can always hang out with Sam if you wanna wait for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Race’s breathing picked up and he started sobbing. Yeah, what happened may have been small. Yet the effects it has is larger, especially with heightened anxiety and the risk of losing someone. 

“Breathe for me, Race,” Elmer tapped out their old beat, “do you wanna join me in binge watching buzzfeed?” When Race nodded, Elmer slowed guided him to the bed and sat down, making room for Race. 

After two episodes and he calmed down, Race spoke up, “I kissed Spot. I don’t know what happened but I kissed him and then I ran and I didn’t say anything to him. Elm, he’s gonna hate me.”

“Race I don’t think he’s gonna hate you-”

“Who does that?! Elmer, I ran from him. Just like every other problem in my life, I ran from it,” Race hung his head in his hands, leaning into Elmer’s side. 

“Race… Race look at me,” Elmer waited until Race sat up, looking at him with the sad look in his eyes. “Hi. Anthony Racetrack Higgins, you do not run from things. Yeah, maybe you do, but you don’t abandon it. With your dad, you’d run to our houses, but you went back with a clear mind, a high head, ready to tough it out hoping things would get better. And when it became too much, you told someone and it did get better. That’s not running. That’s braving the odds against you and looking for a better way.”

“That’s different, Elmer, this isn’t my dad it’s Spot we’re talking about-”

“Racetrack, you gotta hear me out, yeah?” When Race nodded, Elmer continued. “This, what happened with you and Spot, immediately after your brain registered it as an ‘oh my god I fucked up im gonna die’ kinda thing, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Race nodded. 

“So, your anxiety activated your fight or flight reflexes,” Elmer put a hand on Race’s shoulder, “this situation needed flight, and that’s what happened.” 

Race nodded, “that… that helps, Elm. I feel much better about this. Still, I don’t wanna face Spot. Not.. not yet.”

“That’s okay Race, it’s whenever you’re ready,” Elm stood up, “let’s get a snack.”

The two headed downstairs to the living room. The light was on. Frowning, Elmer and Race headed into the room. Sitting on the couch was none other than Spot Conlon. Well, along with Tex and Sam. 

“When did you get here?” Elmer asked, Race hiding behind him. 

“As soon as Sam texted me saying something was wrong with Race,” the short boy held up his phone. 

“Snitch,” Race whispered. 

“Race, he was worried about you,” Spot took a step forward and stopped, “it’s been a while since someone’s done this, and he was worried and thought I might have a clue. Can I talk to Race?”

Elmer looked behind him, “Race, we’re gonna be right in the kitchen, okay? It’s alright, you can do this.” Elmer took Race’s hand, “I believe in you.” 

When the room was clear, Spot looked at the blonde, “is it okay if I come closer, Race?”

“Yeah,” Race held his stomach, walking to the couch and sitting down. “Spot, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that I-“ 

“Racer,” Spot smiled a little, “I meant it when I said I love you. You’re my friend but I wanna be more.”

“Best friends,” Race smiled a little, releasing his grip on his stomach. 

“More.” 

“Super best friends.” 

“More, Racer.” 

“Super mega best friends.” 

“He wants to gay with you!!” Sam shouted from the kitchen, followed by a chorus of ‘sam what the hell!’ 

“I’m just playin,” Race smiled, “Spot, I want to gay with you.”

“Race, I would be honored if you’d gay with me,” Spot got off the couch and kneeled in front of Race, grabbing his hands. “Race, would you do time the honor, of gaying with me and becoming my boyf?”

Race took one hand back and fanned away fake tears, “oh my god, Spot, I would be honored.” Laughing at themselves, Spot got on the couch and Race leaned into him, lacing their fingers together. 

“I love you, Spotty,” Race smiled. 

“I love you, Racer,” Spot kissed the top of Race’s head, fussing with his hair. “I love you.”


End file.
